"Sympathies!--I like to hear of sympathies! Why won't sympathies mend the holes in their pantaloons, sir, and give them bread to eat?"

Mosely arose with impatience, and began to draw on his gloves.

"Oh, don't go for a moment, sir," broke in the lady. "I am so curious to hear if you know what became of the people we met the last time we were here?"

"Which of them?"

"Well--indeed, I'd like to hear about all of them."

"I believe I can tell you, then. The Heathcotes are living in Germany.

The young man is married to Miss Leslie, but no great catch either, for she lost about two-thirds of her fortune in speculation; still, they've got a fine place on the Elbe, near Dresden, and I saw them at the Opera there a few nights ago."

"And that young fellow--Layton, or Leighton--"

"Layton. He made a good thing of it. He married the girl they called Miss Hawke, with a stunning fortune; their yacht is waiting for them now at Leghorn. They say he's the first astronomer of the day. I can only tell you, that if his wife be like her picture in this year's Exhibition, she 's the handsomest woman in England. I heard it all from Colonel Quackinboss."

"And so you met Quackinboss?"

"Yes, he came out from England in Layton's schooner, and is now gone down to join Garibaldi. He says, 'Come si fa?' is n't such a poor devil as he once thought him; and if they do determine to strike a blow for freedom, an American ought to be 'One of Them.'"

THE END.